Written by Rev. Dr. Bill Fullilove |
Friday, November 5, 2021
If ever one could have, should have, grumbled, if ever one got what he did not deserve, it was our Lord, Jesus Christ.  But while we whine in the face of God’s blessings, he was silent in the face of God’s cursing.  “God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Cor. 5:21)  Amazing grace, indeed.  Maybe just amazing enough grace to transform our grumbling and complaining into gratitude, kindness, and thanksgiving.

Numbers, the fourth book of the Bible, is undoubtedly the great book with the terrible marketing plan. The Greek title is arithmoi, the Latin numeri, and hence the English “Numbers,” a title that inspires only a few actuaries and statisticians to even open a sleepy eye. Yet, the New Testament insists that Numbers matters deeply to the Christian faith, serving as a corrective to so many common human tendencies, tendencies that creep into the church and into the Christian life, tendencies that if unchecked will twist and warp lives and communities of faith.
Grumbling holds pride of place among the signature themes of the book. The Israelites – delivered from slavery in Egypt by the ten plagues, rescued via the parting of the Red Sea, having received the Law, having seen God’s power at Sinai, eating manna daily – the very same Israelites, as they begin to march towards Canaan in Numbers 11, immediately begin grumbling and complaining about and against God.
Three episodes follow, the first merely setting the stage:
And the people complained in the hearing of the Lord about their misfortunes, and when the Lord heard it, his anger was kindled, and the fire of the Lord burned among them and consumed some outlying parts of the camp. Then the people cried out to Moses, and Moses prayed to the Lord, and the fire died down. So the name of that place was called Taberah, because the fire of the Lord burned among them. (Numbers 11:1–3, ESV)
“In the hearing of the Lord” is a technical term here, meaning that the people were gathered at the gate of the Tabernacle. This particularly defiant act is met with the fire of judgment.  Hence the name of the place, Taberah, likely from the Hebrew meaning “place of burning.”
The second episode begins to show the spiritual dynamics of complaint:
Now the rabble that was among them had a strong craving. And the people of Israel also wept again and said, “Oh that we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at.” Now the manna was like coriander seed, and its appearance like that of bdellium. The people went about and gathered it and ground it in handmills or beat it in mortars and boiled it in pots and made cakes of it. And the taste of it was like the taste of cakes baked with oil. When the dew fell upon the camp in the night, the manna fell with it. Moses heard the people weeping throughout their clans, everyone at the door of his tent. And the anger of the Lord blazed hotly, and Moses was displeased.(Numbers 11:4–10, ESV)
In other words, the people ate every day by a miracle, and that was not enough.
We often take God’s care and provision not just for granted, but as something onerous and burdensome.  We become accustomed to God’s gifts, much as we become accustomed to speed when riding in a car on the expressway.  Accelerating down the entrance ramp, we ease slightly back in our seats, experiencing the acceleration.  Yet, before long, 55 seems slow.  So does 65.  So does 75.  And before long, if we are not careful, we are doing 85, whizzing by others, only to suddenly have our daydream interrupted by the flashing lights of the local police department!  We become accustomed to speed, forgetting that we are not beings made to go more than a few miles per hour under our own locomotion.  So it is with God’s gifts.  We cease to notice that those gifts are even there.  We start to complain about how slow things feel, how we want more.
Even more, a complaining spirit makes them (and us) revisionist.  What do the Israelites begin doing?  Talking about how good it was in Egypt!  Remember their lives in Egypt?  They were slaves, worked to the bone, their children killed, the victims of a genocide.  Until God miraculously delivered them.  But a complaining spirit forgets all that.  They would rather – they think (Remember that they are fooling themselves, too.) – they would rather return to slavery than live in the Lord’s miraculous blessing.  Hence, along their journey the place named, Kibroth Hattaavah, “marked graves” or “graves of craving.”
Isn’t it amazing that we do the same thing?  We live every day in the miraculous love of Christ.  We are fed by his grace, both physically and spiritually.  Our every breath and being is sustained by him.  Our work and our rest are his gifts.  Yet before long we become accustomed to his gracious gifts and start to not just forget them, but to scorn them.  We find ourselves saying, “Why do I have to go to this job?  I hate it.  Why do I have to care for these children?  They take so much out of me?  Why do I have to serve as a member in this church?  I don’t like these people.”  We take God’s gifts – jobs, children, church – not simply for granted, but we start to even complain about them.
One might think these Israelites would get the picture, but chapter 12 begins with a third area of complaint, this time against Moses, the leader that God had given them:
Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married, for he had married a Cushite woman. And they said, “Has the Lord indeed spoken only through Moses? Has he not spoken through us also?” And the Lord heard it. (Numbers 12:1–2, ESV)
God’s people love to rebel against their leaders.  In Numbers 12, Miriam and Aaron start to gripe about Moses’ leadership.  They begin their complaint with ethnic prejudice – racism – the fact that Moses’ wife is from Cush (modern day Ethiopia).  Sadly, the church has replicated this type of sin again and again, and we are hardly free from it today.
In verse 2, though, we realize that Miriam and Aaron are just dragging Moses’ wife into it to get at him (another thing that is far too common in the church today).  Even underneath the racism is jealousy – they betray themselves with their words: “Has the LORD indeed spoken only through Moses?  Has he not spoken through us also?”  This jealousy is particularly important, as Aaron and Miriam had leadership roles of their own, and jealous infighting among the leaders of God’s people threatens the whole expedition.  Now that is a lesson the church today needs to hear!
I must say that I am, sadly, not immune to any of this.  None of us are.  I am easily piqued and sometimes petty, full of pride.  My best charitable moments are often overwhelmed by sin, and even when I think myself free of pride, I dig deeper and find it is still there, just another layer of the onion.  I have had my share of being the guilty one (and the not guilty one) in these situations, and I think I am most scared of the times I think I was the “not guilty one.” That just smacks of rationalization.  We are easily piqued and petty, and the one writing is the chief of sinners.  And jealous infighting among God’s leaders can sink any church.
Thing is, grumbling is a precursor, not a steady state. Grumbling doesn’t simply stay put as low-level aggression and dissatisfaction. Sooner or later, it leads somewhere. In Numbers, it leads to rebellion, which characterizes the next section of the book. Chapter 13 begins with the rebellion of the spies. Israel reaches the southern edge of Canaan, sends in spies to explore the land, and receives back the report: “The land is wonderful…and full of giants. We will be crushed if we try to enter.”
At the end of forty days they returned from spying out the land. And they came to Moses and Aaron and to all the congregation of the people of Israel in the wilderness of Paran, at Kadesh. They brought back word to them and to all the congregation, and showed them the fruit of the land. And they told him, “We came to the land to which you sent us. It flows with milk and honey, and this is its fruit. However, the people who dwell in the land are strong, and the cities are fortified and very large. And besides, we saw the descendants of Anak there. The Amalekites dwell in the land of the Negeb. The Hittites, the Jebusites, and the Amorites dwell in the hill country. And the Canaanites dwell by the sea, and along the Jordan.” But Caleb quieted the people before Moses and said, “Let us go up at once and occupy it, for we are well able to overcome it.” Then the men who had gone up with him said, “We are not able to go up against the people, for they are stronger than we are.” So they brought to the people of Israel a bad report of the land that they had spied out, saying, “The land, through which we have gone to spy it out, is a land that devours its inhabitants, and all the people that we saw in it are of great height. And there we saw the Nephilim (the sons of Anak, who come from the Nephilim), and we seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them.” Then all the congregation raised a loud cry, and the people wept that night. And all the people of Israel grumbled against Moses and Aaron. The whole congregation said to them, “Would that we had died in the land of Egypt! Or would that we had died in this wilderness! Why is the Lord bringing us into this land, to fall by the sword? Our wives and our little ones will become a prey. Would it not be better for us to go back to Egypt?” And they said to one another, “Let us choose a leader and go back to Egypt.” Then Moses and Aaron fell on their faces before all the assembly of the congregation of the people of Israel. (Numbers 13:25–14:5, ESV)
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Though the mountains may depart and the hills; be removed, the covenant of his love shall never depart from us. “For,” saith Jehovah, “I will never forget thee, O Zion;” “I have graven thee, upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.” O Christian, that is a firm foundation, cemented with blood, on which thou mayest build for eternity!

Many Christians are happy to affirm Scripture’s teaching of eternal assurance, sometimes summarized as “once saved, always saved.” However, many are more hesitant when it comes to affirming the Reformed doctrine of effectual atonement or definite atonement, namely that by his death on the cross, Jesus not only made salvation possible, but He accomplished salvation for His elect, he actually saved them and purchased them by His blood. And yet, as Spurgeon points out in the sermon “The Death of Christ for His People,” on 1 John 3:16 (“He laid down his life for us.”), the logic of eternal security rests on a belief in the finished work of Christ. It is only because of our hope in an effectual atonement that we can have confidence in our eternal assurance. Listen, as Spurgeon explains the source of our security:
We, who know the gospel, see, in the fact of the death of Christ, a reason that no strength of logic can ever shake, and no power of unbelief can remove, why we should be saved.
There may be men, with minds so distorted that they can conceive it possible that Christ should die for a man who afterwards is lost; I say, there may be such. I am sorry to say that there are still to be found some such persons, whose brains have been so addled, in their childhood, that they cannot see that what they hold is both a preposterous falsehood and a blasphemous libel. Christ dies for a man, and then God punishes that man again; Christ suffers in a sinner’s stead, and then God condemns that sinner after all! Why, my friends, I feel quite shocked in only mentioning such an awful error; and were it not so current as it is, I should certainly pass it over with the contempt that it deserves. The doctrine of Holy Scripture is this, that God is just, that Christ died in the stead of his people, and that, as God is just, he will never punish one solitary soul of Adam’s race for whom the Savior did thus shed his blood. The Savior did, indeed, in a certain sense, die for all, all men receive many a mercy through his blood, but that he was the Substitute and Surety for all men, is so inconsistent, both with reason and Scripture, that we are obliged to reject the doctrine with abhorrence. No, my soul, how shalt thou be punished if thy Lord endured thy punishment for thee? Did he die for thee?
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Written by Ben C. Dunson |
Tuesday, July 25, 2023
When Jesus refers to the kingdom of God he is referring to the final form of God’s kingdom, which is the saving kingdom that he ushers into the world through his perfect life, atoning death, and glorious resurrection. That is to say: Jesus is not referring with the phrase “kingdom of God” to God’s universal kingship over all things in a generic sense, but to the kingdom that will be manifest in the salvation he accomplishes and then pours out on his people. It is a “spiritual” kingdom, though it has profound implications for how its citizens live in this world.

A Wall of Separation
Thomas Jefferson famously wrote in an 1802 letter to the Danbury Baptist Association that the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution prohibiting the Federal government from making any laws “respecting an establishment of religion” meant that there was, and must be in America, an absolute “wall of separation between Church & State.”
Although Jefferson was only referring to establishment on the Federal level, which is indeed prohibited in the First Amendment, his phrase has come to represent for many Americans something much more expansive. It has, in fact, become a commonplace to indicate that the State can have nothing whatsoever to do with God or even the basic moral truths found in the Bible. Such an understanding has become predominant even among many Christians. But is it correct?
Separating church and state is extremely important. It is thoroughly biblical to do so, and the best thinkers in the Christian tradition have recognized the importance of doing so, although in a way very different from the modern conception of Jefferson’s wall of separation. There is a sense in which church and state must be absolutely separate and a sense in which they cannot be thought of separately at all. Each has its own unique realm of authority that must be preserved from unwarranted intrusion from the other, while neither can be sealed off completely from the other.
However, to adequately address the relationship between church and state we have to back up. The broader historical-theological concept into which the discussion of church and state falls is that of God’s “two kingdoms.” At its most basic level, the classic Protestant two kingdoms doctrine means that God rules over his spiritual kingdom, the church, in one way, and rules over the world outside the church in a different way. This is sometimes taken (wrongly) almost as if God doesn’t rule over the world outside the church at all, but it should not be understood in that way.
In this article I will introduce the doctrine of God’s two kingdoms, and then I will more briefly focus on how this idea illuminates the relationship between church and state. I’ll also explain some key biblical texts that deal with these difficult (and often fraught) relationships. The goal is to help Christians understand the divine purposes for each realm.
Defining the Two Kingdoms
As Brad Littlejohn puts it, for classical Protestant thinkers: “The two kingdoms were not two institutions or even two domains of the world, but two ways in which the kingship of Christ made itself felt in the life of each and every believer.” Referring to Christ’s comprehensive reign over all things Abraham Kuyper famously wrote that “there is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry: ‘Mine!’” All fine and good, but what does this mean precisely? For example, if Jesus is king over all things should church and state be merged, with the officers of the church ruling the state as well? Should the state rule over the church? Is there another way that such realms should be related? The classic Protestant doctrine of the two kingdoms helps answer these very questions.
This is not an exhaustive historical survey, so I’ll simply quote from John Calvin to illustrate this historical strand of thought:
The former [the spiritual government] has its seat within the soul, the latter [the temporal government] only regulates the external conduct. We may call the one the spiritual, the other the civil kingdom. Now, these two, as we have divided them, are always to be viewed apart from each other. When the one is considered, we should call off our minds, and not allow them to think of the other. For there exists in man a kind of two worlds, over which different kings and different laws can preside . . . . The question . . . though not very obscure, or perplexing in itself, occasions difficulty to many, because they do not distinguish with sufficient accuracy between what is called the external forum, and the forum of conscience.
Though it is sometimes mistakenly taken as such, Calvin’s point (which is representative of classic Protestant thinking on the whole) is not that there is one realm in which Christ rules (the spiritual realm) and another with which he has nothing to do (a non-spiritual realm), but rather that the Christian always lives simultaneously in both worlds. And it is also the case that Christ rules over both worlds, though his rule looks different according to the specific nature of each realm (for the sake of clarity and consistency I will refer to the “spiritual” and “external” kingdoms in the rest of this article).
Christ rules over the spiritual realm, or kingdom, by his word. In this kingdom the consciences of believers may only be bound insofar as Scripture itself binds them, and the focus of this kingdom is eternal salvation and the spiritual well-being of the saints. The spiritual kingdom is the sum total of believers and their children.
Does this mean the external realm, or kingdom, is a moral free for all? Not at all. Christ also rules over that realm, although in a fundamentally different way. The charter of the external kingdom is not the Bible (strictly speaking) though the Bible informs life in the civil kingdom. The charter for the external kingdom is derived in different ways from the imprint of God’s law in nature, the human conscience, the voice of tradition, human law and history, and more.
Properly separating the spiritual kingdom from the external kingdom that encompasses everything outside of the spiritual is vital. The spiritual kingdom, God’s saving work in the lives of his people, must be distinguished from everything earthly and temporal. Distinguishing, however, is not the same thing as radically separating or divorcing. My leaf blower’s engine requires a precise blend of oil and gasoline to operate. Oil is not gasoline; they are distinguished. But my engine will not run without both; they cannot be radically separated. The same is true of God’s two kingdoms.
The Two Kingdoms in Scripture
So far I’ve only been giving definitions and explanations. Now we must turn to Scripture. The focus in this section will be on a variety of texts that show us the distinction between God’s two kingdoms.
The Spiritual Kingdom
God is king over all things. Of this there is no dispute: “The Lord is king forever and ever; the nations perish from his land” (Ps 10:16); “For God is the King of all the earth; sing praises with a psalm” (Ps 47:7)!
In Jesus’s earthly ministry he also proclaims his Father’s dominion over all things, for example, teaching his disciples to pray for God’s kingdom to come, and his will be done, on earth as it is in heaven (Matt 6:10). But something unique and vital is introduced into Christ’s preaching of God’s kingdom.
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